


To the Altar, Accidentally

by DaringlyDomestic



Series: Tumblr Drabble Challenge [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-08 00:13:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6831052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaringlyDomestic/pseuds/DaringlyDomestic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>#88: "Don't panic but I think we might have accidentally gotten married..."</p>
            </blockquote>





	To the Altar, Accidentally

**Author's Note:**

> Send me a pairing and a number. I will write you a drabble. This is a challenge taking place on tumblr but feel free to send me a pairing and a one sentence prompt on here too. You can find me on Tumblr as daringlydomestic!

Sherlock was glowing with the fulfillment of a case well-solved. He was pacing and gesturing wildly, his entire face telling the story. That’s one of the things John loves most about this new level of their relationship. Most people imagine Sherlock to be some sort of emotionless, crime-solving automaton. John has always known better, but Sherlock goes to great lengths to make sure no one _sees_ the care he puts into each and every case.

Now that they are together, all pretense has been stripped away, and Sherlock’s breathless diatribe reminds John of an eager schoolboy sharing the new and fascinating information he learned at school that day. John is so caught up that he realizes he has missed half the story already.

“…and then I said to Wiggins, it can’t possibly be an ingestible poison! I mean look at the facts. They were killed so fast that they hardly knew it was happening! They didn’t just sit down to a nice Cabernet and poison meatloaf. Honestly, meatloaf John! Could the Americans be any more ridiculous? What a horrific notion. Anyway…”

John beams in delight. He loves when Sherlock gets sarcastic. The man can be quite funny when he puts his mind to it.

“…well then we had to go undercover, of course. A vicar, John! I do so love a case of dramatic irony! I mean who would suspect the dutiful vicar performing the marriage ceremonies of murdering the happy couples. Just wonderful.”

John nearly chokes on his tea as Sherlock babbles on. Soon, his need to draw breath forces a small break in the narrative just long enough for John to add:

“Brilliant.”

Sherlock waves off the compliment, but John can see the smile dancing around the edges of his mouth. It’s all in the dimples, really. They only appear when Sherlock is pleased, even when he is battling hard to keep the emotion off his face. John doubts anyone else has ever noticed.

“It was a fabulous case, John.”

“A masterpiece of mayhem, huh?”

Sherlock grimaces.

“You know how much I abhor your tortured romanticisms, yes?”

John just shrugs, still mightily pleased at the clever turn of phrase.

“I did miss you though.”

Sherlock seems almost embarrassed at the admission, so John doesn’t tease.

“I missed you too, love.”

John adores using that endearment. It has a tendency to make Sherlock’s cheeks blush a dark, satisfying purple.

Sherlock curls his arms tight around John and pulls him to his chest.

“Many aspects of the case would have been much more palatable with you there.”

John draws back just a little. It is unlike Sherlock to call any aspect of a case unpalatable. He even loves the psychotic, gory cases that would drive a lesser man to distraction. John knows that if he points out the alarming vocabulary directly, Sherlock will clam up, so he uses a soft, playful tone.

“Mmm? And what aspects would those be, Mr. Holmes?”

John slides a hand into Sherlock’s hair and cradles his skull. Sherlock leans into the touch and blurts out a confusing non-sequitur.

“Don’t panic!”

John frowns.

“I’m not panicking, Sherlock. Are you panicking?”

Sherlock growls in irritation. That was not how he meant to say it.

“Of course not. Don’t be an idiot, John! But I have to tell you, I think we might have accidentally gotten…um…”

John strokes his curls gently.

“Gotten what, love?”

There’s that beautiful blush again that John adores.

“I think we might have accidentally gotten married.”

John’s mouth hangs open for a few seconds before he starts to laugh. Sherlock looks affronted.

“No we didn’t, you git!”

Sherlock is caught off guard by John’s assumption, but before he can clarify, John carries on.

“I would remember marrying you, Sherlock. Even by accident.”

There is a dull ache in his chest at the thought. He had only meant to tell John about the mix-up with the case, but now he wants that more than anything. He wants a pointless ceremony with cake and dancing and _mingling_. He can’t properly say why he wants it, but he knows in the depths of his soul that he wants John forever and for always.

Sherlock’s epiphany takes all of thirty seconds, but it seems much longer to John who is watching Sherlock’s mouth open and close like a surprised guppy.

“Sherlock, you alright?”

Sherlock blinks and John watches tender vulnerability and a shy smile break over his face.

“Will you, though?”

John hasn’t the foggiest idea what Sherlock is on about now.

“Will I what?”

“Marry me?”

Sherlock feels like the words should be harder to say. He should be afraid or choking on emotion, but his voice is steady and calm. Those two words contain a universal truth. Perhaps the strongest truth he has ever uttered.

It’s John’s turn to gape madly, but he answers immediately, as if he instinctively knew the answer. As if he had only been waiting for Sherlock to voice the question.

“Oh god yes.”

Sherlock seals his lips over John’s. Later, there will be several rounds of hard heated kissing, sucking, licking, thrusting. For now, the single kiss feels like a promise. A pact for their hearts only.

“Of course Mycroft will need to push through my divorce from Wiggins first if you want to have the wedding soon.”

Sherlock is a cyclone of exultant energy. It takes John’s brain approximately 3.7 seconds to catch up.

“Hang on. Your _what_ from _who_?!”

Sherlock’s fingers fly over the keys as he texts his brother. He can’t even bother to be stroppy over requesting a favor. He just wants to marry John as soon as humanly possible. Sooner if Mycroft agrees to help.

“Whom, John.”

Sherlock corrects him reflexively. He freezes when he registers the outrage and hurt in John’s voice. Head full of explanations and apologies, he turns to John and finds himself at a loss. They stare at each other for a full minute.

John cracks first and within minutes they are both howling with laughter.

“You – are – completely – ridiculous – you know that?”

John wheezes out between breaths.

“We,”

Sherlock corrects before his brain is overtaken by the all-encompassing joy of John’s body pressed against his as their mouths tangled together in blissful perfection.


End file.
